Fate
by tubeatoothpaste
Summary: A girl saves Lancelot's life, as Merlin prophecized at her birth. Lancelot doesn't know, and must face his brush with death and his infatuation with the Queen.
1. Chapter 1

It was the day of the funerals for the fallen.

All of Arthur's knights, all of the Woads, had gathered in respect for the heroes who had died.

Arthur knelt with a torch in hand and set fire to the kindling that lay atop his best friend's body. Lancelot was dead, gone. All those years of loyal friendship, and here his body would now rest forever.

_It is all my fault._ Arthur thought, his eyes empty. _This was not his fight. He died for me._

Pushing the terrorizing thought from his brain, Arthur stood as the fire spread. He forced himself to look, to ingrain this moment into his memory. After a few seconds, he couldn't bear it anymore and looked away, ashamed. Guinevere held his elbow, her eyes dripping sadly.

A scream pierced the air. A woman nearby was pointing.

Arthur looked up, alarmed. A girl hurtled down the hill. Her long hair followed her like a man and her feet flew over the steep hillside. She was tumbling toward the grave, toward the fire. Everyone watched her silent pilgrimage.

As she got closer, the people moved away when they realized she wasn't going to stop. Gawain moved to grab her, but she rampaged past him. In the split second she passed him, Arthur noticed her eyes. A deep, deep green. Her face looked crazy, like a wild animal, but her eyes were strangely calm.

Before he could stop her, she collapsed onto the funeral pyre, lying on her back, arms opened, surrendering.

"Grab her!" Arthur roared and Bors jumped forward.

"Stop!" A heavy voice commanded. "No one touch her!"

Arthur looked up into Merlin's dark eyes.

"But she is burning!" Arthur protested, eyeing the girl's shaking body.

"She is not dying," Merlin explained calmly, "She is saving your friend's life."

"What?" Arthur asked hoarsely, "Lancelot is dead. He is dead. And now she is dying too. Because of me!"

Merlin chuckled, "Do you really think this is all your doing, Arthur?" he asked. "Nay, this is beyond you. Beyond me even. It is old magic."

Arthur looked back at the girl. Her body had stopped shaking. He assumed she was dead. The fire went out. The smoke enveloped him, and Arthur began choking, struggling to see what had become of her. People around him started coughing as they were all surrounded by the deep fog. The dismay turned to slight horror as the smog turned green, then purple. It shimmered in the sunlight, turning red and finally, dissolving in the air. The air was clear, Arthur could breathe again.

He looked at where the fire had been. The girl lay half atop Lancelot's wrapped body, her right shoulder overlapping his left, only ashes between them. That was unnatural. How had all the wood burned so fast? And why was Lancelot's body, and the girls for that matter, unscathed? Everyone stared, transfixed by this odd moment. No one knew what to do.

Suddenly, the bodies were moving. The sheet around Lancelot's face heaved in and out, as if someone were trying to…

"Breathe!" Arthur yelled, "Breathe, he's trying to breathe!" He leapt into the pit and sliced the sheet off Lancelot's face. The fallen knight's mouth hung open and Arthur heard him suck in breath. He felt the head shake, the chest heave.

Lancelot was alive.


	2. Chapter 2

"This one will be a trouble maker, that's for sure!" the midwife said, wiping her brow. " I haven't seen a labor this long in sixteen years."

The mother-to-be groaned, writhing in the sweat-soaked sheets.

"Oh, kill me now," she moaned, "Just kill me. I hate men." Tears streamed down her face, "I hate them and I hate Cerdic most of all!"

The midwife patted the woman on the head, "Now you hush-up love, you love your husband very much. He's the greatest Saxon I know."

The woman sighed, wiping her damp blonde hair out of her face. "Oh, can I see him? Oh can't Cerdic come in here?"

"No," the midwife said, "No, he can't."

"Oh," the woman clutched again at the blankets, "I think it's coming!"

"Okay, now push love!" The midwife instructed, skillfully guiding the new life into the world.

"Oh, it's a beautiful boy!" She called.

The woman relaxed, grateful her pain was over, grateful she had a boy. Cerdic would be so pleased.

"Give me my son!" Cerdic yelled, pushing his way into the tent. "Oh, look at my boy!" The huge Saxon smiled, staring at his beautiful boy. His long blonde hair swung behind his back and his long fur robes bushed the floor.

"Oh, it still hurts!" His wife moaned, "Oh it feels like there's another."

"Now that will just be the afterbirth," the midwife coached, "Push it out, one more big push."

But one push didn't do it, for with that push, the midwife saw a tiny head.

"Gods almighty" she whispered, "You're having twins!" The midwife's mind reeled. The mother was not going to make it. She could barely push out that boy, another one would surely kill her. But not giving birth would surely kill them both. With a sigh, the midwife ordered, "Push it out honey."

The wife pushed with all her strength, and that was it. She fell back into the pillows, exhausted and closed her eyes.

The midwife took the new baby in her arms. It was a girl, and she was tiny. She wrapped the little girl up and placed her next to the boy.

Cerdic shook his wife gently, but she did not respond.

"Help her!" He yelled to the midwife, "Help her!"

The midwife took her pulse, but knew she was dead. The second baby had killed her. She lifted her eyes to tell this man, but when she met his, she knew she did not have to. She saw the rage, the anger.

"Get that second one away from me," He ordered. "I will kill him! I will kill that baby with my own hands! I don't care that he is my own son!"

"It's a she! She is your daughter!" The midwife screamed, holding the baby close to her chest. "I won't let you touch her!"

Cerdic raised his sword, his eyes menacing.

Where had the adoring husband gone? The loveable town favorite? This man was a monster. The midwife prayed silently for help to come.

"Cerdic!" a voice roared, bursting into the tent flap. "Do not touch that child."

"Who are you?" Cerdic roared, "Who are you who tells me what to do with my own child?"

"This girl is sacred. She is touched by the gods. You cannot kill her. It would bring ruin to your people." The man said. He wore a loincloth. His face was blue, and his hair was graying and wild about his face.

"You are a Woad!" Cerdic cried. "Get away from here! Go back to Briton before I kill you! Your witchcraft…"

"I am Merlin." He answered, "And there is a prophecy about your child." He paused before he continued:

"When the blood of the enemy mixes with the blood of the fallen, a covenant will be made. When the flames seal the pure to the corrupted, they will both rise. And the face of the world will be altered. Love will be found again in our hearts."

"Don't you speak to me about love, I have just lost my wife!" Cerdic cried, lunging at the baby. He stopped short when Merlin's dagger landed in his shoulder.

"This shoulder will always droop, to remind you of your heartlessness," Merlin said.

"Fine, I won't kill the baby," Cerdic muttered, "But I won't look at it. Take it away from my land. Take it with you."

Merlin nodded, "I will find her a home." He reached down and took the little girl in his arms. "And a name," he murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ellie, Ellie, wake up!"

She could hear someone calling her name, and Ellie struggled to open her eyes. Oh no, they were too heavy for that.

"Leave her be, she'll wake up," a deep voice promised.

_Merlin._ Ellie smiled, that was comforting. She tried to remember what had happened to her. As her senses all became active again, she started to feel a burning in her chest. That spread, and spread over her whole body. She was burning, she was on fire.

She let out a moan of pain.

"I'm burning…" she murmured.

"No you are not," Merlin corrected her, his face close to her eyes, "You only feel as if you are."

Ellie groaned and bit her lip, holding in her pain.

"I've wrapped her up with the strongest balm I could make," Merlin instructed, turning away from Ellie now. He spoke to the nurse by her bedside, her oldest friend Anna. "She should heal."

And with that, he swept out of the room.

"Oh, Ellie," Anna cried, taking her hand. "I've been so worried about you."

Ellie nodded groggily and drifted off, her mind swirling with the pain in her back.

- - -

"I don't understand," Arthur admitted, sinking into a chair at the round table. "Explain it to me again."

Merlin sighed, "Arthur, no matter how many times I tell you, the story will not change."

"Yes, but perhaps my take on it will. Again."

Merlin, not one to be ordered around, raised his eyebrows at the king.

"Please Merlin, he is my best friend, I am trying to comprehend what has just happened to him!" Arthur asked, his eyes pleading.

"All right," Merlin settled himself down in a chair near Arthur. "Ellie is the daughter of Cerdic the Saxon."

"The one who just tried to kill us all," Arthur interjected, "The one who killed Lancelot and almost killed Tristan."

"Yes," Merlin nodded patiently, "His son was her twin. Their mother died in childbirth. I had a vision one day, weeks before that happened. It revealed to me this prophecy about Ellie."

Arthur nodded, "Repeat it to me again."

Merlin complied.

"So, because she is Cerdic's daughter, that is the blood of the enemy." Arthur reasoned, "And one is pure and one is corrupt. So Ellie is corrupt?"

Merlin chuckled, "You jump to conclusions. Who is to say it is not Lancelot that is corrupt?"

"You will not dirty his name with such nonsense!" Arthur roared, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at Merlin.

Merlin stared at him, "A blind man will never make a good king," he said. "The closest to us are the hardest to see."

Arthur backed down, calming down. "I know Lancelot, he is not the corrupt one."

Merlin waited for him to say more, but when he didn't, he continued.

"It is old magic. Lancelot will live. I think that Ellie will be scarred. But most likely, Lancelot may not remember anything. It is up to Ellie to tell him, understand?" Merlin stressed, eyeing the confused King.

"But what if she never does?"

"It is her story to tell," Merlin sighed.

"I just don't get it. Why did she do it?" Arthur asked.

"She had no choice. It was her fate," Merlin explained.

"That's ridiculous, everyone's fate is their own making," Arthur grunted.

"Is it?" Merlin wondered, "Was it simply a coincidence you pulled that sword out of the stone?"

"Enough," Arthur stood up, then softer, "Enough Merlin. My brain is aching from the thoughts you have put in my mind."

Merlin smiled, "Yes, I have given you a lot to wonder about. 'Til tomorrow then?"

"Yes, goodnight," Arthur closed the door and started off to find Guinevere.

- - -

"Oh gods," Guinevere muttered, pacing in her bedroom. "Oh gods, let Lancelot be all right. He died for me," she murmured, sinking to her knees. "He fought for Arthur, but died for me."

She rested her head on the edge of the bed, whispering, "Oh Lancelot, heal quickly. I could not take it. Oh my heart would just break if…"

She whipped around as she heard the door creak open. Arthur entered, slowly, sadly. When he saw her kneeling, he came quickly beside her,

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," Guinevere lied, brushing at her leaking eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm just…concerned. For that poor girl." She looked away, not able to meet his eyes as she finished, "And for Lancelot too, of course."

Arthur nodded, putting an arm around her, "Would you like to go see him? It might help, Merlin says he is getting better."


End file.
